Dreams of Coming Back

From whence my little jaunt I return I will gladly once again know the sweet felicity that always accompanies our fellowships and enter into the common discourses we once had concerning the things of God and man. I will no longer bash heads with younger men who seem to heal immediately upon such fierce collision, while I moan in yonder bed with dreams of going home. In the meantime, I will continue to entertain my stubbornness, running fast and headlong into such continual collisions on the practice field, all the while knowing that surely I will more than likely not get more than a play or two of the real action because, well, I am old. They feel for me I suppose, these older coaches of mine. So then, I will revert to more such violence after class, drawing complaints from the younger of my efforts to knock the snot out of them. Let them whine. The pain is only meant to make them better. And hopefully, when they encounter far more difficult questions in life, they will remember the old man and the Christ he served.